


A Dwindled Dawn

by KeevaCaereni



Category: Les Misérables - All Media Types, The Birthday of the World and Other Stories - Ursula K. Le Guin
Genre: Alternate Universe, Canonical Character Death, F/M, M/M, Sedoretu
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-03
Updated: 2016-01-03
Packaged: 2018-05-11 10:15:00
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,525
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5623597
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KeevaCaereni/pseuds/KeevaCaereni
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>They would make a perfect sedoretu. If only they all had chance to meet. Based on Ursula Le Guin's stories about the Ki'O.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Dwindled Dawn

**Author's Note:**

> Note for readers unfamiliar with the planet O: 
> 
> Ki'O society is divided into two halves or moieties, called (for ancient religious reasons) the Morning and the Evening. You belong to your mother's moiety, and you can't have sex with anybody of your moiety. 
> 
> Marriage on O is a foursome, the sedoretu — a man and a woman from the Morning moiety and a man and a woman from the Evening moiety. You're expected to have sex with both your spouses of the other moiety, and not to have sex with your spouse of your own moiety. So each sedoretu has two expected heterosexual relationships, two expected homosexual relationships, and two forbidden heterosexual relationships. 
> 
> The expected relationships within each sedoretu are: 
> 
> The Morning woman and the Evening man (the "Morning marriage") 
> 
> The Evening woman and the Morning man (the "Evening marriage") 
> 
> The Morning woman and the Evening woman (the "Day marriage") 
> 
> The Morning man and the Evening man (the "Night marriage") 
> 
> The forbidden relationships are between the Morning woman and the Morning man, and between the Evening woman and the Evening man, and they aren't called anything, except sacrilege. 
> 
> It's just as complicated as it sounds, but aren't most marriages?

Courfeyrac bumps into him on the street, this strange young man, so serious about something or other. Bossuet is speaking with him about how he has no rooms at present and Courfeyrac cannot have such a man living on the streets. He offers his room at once, and fights off Bossuet when he would try to spirit the man away himself.

The man's name is Marius, he learns, and he is very insistent that he should not come with Courfeyrac.

"But why?" he says, genuinely baffled. "You are in need of a room, I have a room, and we are both Evening, unless I miss my guess, so there are no concerns regarding propriety."

As it turns out, his guess is correct, and eventually Marius agrees to come with him.

 

* * *

 

He cannot understand Marius at all. With a face like his, how can he go about dressed all in black like a curé and ignore the lovely young Morning folk making eyes at him? He has no conception of such things. Marius does not speak of whatever it is that troubles him, and Courfeyrac does not ask, but he can see it has cut him deep: in his experience, such things usually suggest a family matter. Courfeyrac can understand not wishing to speak of it.

He discusses what to do about Marius with Combeferre, lounging on his bed while Combeferre has already moved to clean himself and thrown a damp cloth at him, for all the good it will do. He should know by now that Courfeyrac is lethargic in the extreme after lovemaking.

"If you trust him, and you want to distract him from whatever misfortune he is enduring, you might consider bringing him to a meeting," suggests Combeferre.

Courfeyrac is delighted. All his friends in one place! Combeferre has the most wonderful ideas. Young Marius is in definite need of education, young Bonapartist that he is.

Naturally the meeting is a disaster.

 

* * *

 

Despite their first meeting, Marius continues to come to the Musain. He listens well, and though he is a Bonapartist Combeferre cannot help but feel fond of him. He is so determined to be serious, the effect is completely the opposite.

Courfeyrac is in his rooms again: the fact that they have separate rooms is less to do with any kind of propriety, given their unmarried state, and more to do with the fact that Courfeyrac cannot leave well enough alone and Combeferre might murder him, were he to upset his moth samples. The arrangement works well for them both; Combeferre does not have to explain to his mother that he is living in sin and Courfeyrac can shock his grandfather with the state of his room.

After Marius' impassioned (if misguided) defence of Bonaparte, they left the others on their way to some other bar and came to Combeferre's rooms. He wishes merely to relax, or perhaps to have Courfeyrac read to him; he has a headache from the wine. Courfeyrac, it seems, has other ideas.

"He is a handsome fellow, isn't he?" 

Combeferre looks at him patiently. "He is also an Evening, a fact I am sure you have not failed to grasp."

"It is something I noticed while I was looking at his face, yes," says Courfeyrac, pulling a face. "The Almighty made me with eyes and him with a face worth looking at, it would be sinful to ignore such things."

"One day someone is not going to be satisfied with merely getting flustered and they will strike you in your own handsome face," remarks Combeferre, closing his eyes again.

There is a pause as Courfeyrac considers his next volley; Combeferre settles more comfortably against his legs.

"I note that you have also noticed that he is Evening, my dear," ventures Courfeyrac, picking up the book and laying a hand on Combeferre's hair.

"Well, the Almighty has made me with eyes, has He not?" teases Combeferre. Marius is indeed handsome, and it is pleasant to watch him, but they are in no hurry to make a full sedoretu. They are complete as they are.

 

* * *

 

As the weeks pass, what was a joke and a pleasant way of passing the time becomes triumphant glances from Courfeyrac and a rather persistent headache for Combeferre. Marius just has such _faith_ , and as he spends more time with them, they can see his need to believe whole-heartedly in whatever it may be. He is bright and young and clear-eyed, and they watch as he moves from the love of Bonaparte that put him at odds with their group to a deep and honest desire for freedom, liberty and equality.

They hold a meeting, to speak about the working conditions in the factories. Marius stands in front of them and holds forth on their efforts to unite the workers. He speaks clearly and sincerely of their work, of what yet needs to be done, and Combeferre, who has listened to Enjolras a hundred times, cannot take his eyes away.

As they leave the Musain, Courfeyrac looks at him, and for the first time he is uncertain.

 

* * *

 

Marius slips through the darkened streets to her house, led by Eponine. Finally he is at his Ursule's house, finally he can confess his love to both her and Combeferre and Courfeyrac. He burns with love for them, but he sees that they are content as a pair and will not intrude on that, unless he can join them in even greater bliss; as one member of a complete sedoretu, answering the question at their wedding. He shudders with pleasure at the thought. How beautiful Ursule will be in her gown, how handsome Courfeyrac and Combeferre in their embroidered waistcoats. His grandfather may not approve of his union to two of the group he calls rabble rousers, but they will have the family of les Amis there.

When he reaches the gate she is waiting for him, and all his thoughts fly away. He learns her name is Cosette, not Ursule; an amusing mistake to tell their grandchildren. Cosette is beautiful beyond imagining and Marius is nearly tongue tied with shyness now he meets her. She is an angel sent to earth, he is sure of it, for when he whispers if she has any other suitors in mind for her sedoretu, she smiles and blushes no. It is fate, he is certain.

Her father breaks the solitude of the garden and Marius is forced to withdraw rather faster than he would have preferred. It is only as he is hurrying away that he remembers he did not tell her about Courfeyrac and Combeferre, but there is no time, now. Later.

After that, everything begins to move very fast.

 

He climbs to the top of the hearse and waves the flag as high as he may, from behind him he feels Courfeyrac's eyes on him-

 

Enjolras pries the torch from his hands, he stares blankly at them, uncomprehending why they are empty, as Combeferre shouts at him, " What were you thinking, Marius, you could have gotten us all killed! My life is not yours to risk-"

 

Eponine is dead and her blood is on his hands; he cannot believe he was so unseeing. He reads the letter she gave him and he cannot make the words make sense. Cosette is still in France-

 

 

* * *

 

They step out of the carriage into a street still stained red with blood, if you know where to look. The women have worked to erase the reminders of what occurred here, but it will take time yet to fade. The sky is bright and clear in the dregs of the summer, and Cosette breathes in the air with no small sense of trepidation.

Cosette has come with her husband to the cafe, so as not to leave him alone. Violette and Pierre have been so caring through all of Marius' long convalescence, but the Evening marriage needs some time to itself, and if she is honest, so does the Morning one. She will never forget the long days spent making bandages with Violette when they could not see Marius for fear of exciting him, and sitting at his side reading plays with Pierre, but they have not had time alone, caring for him as they have.

The sight of the cafe is distressing. If it upsets her so, to think of the young men who laughed and planned for a brighter future here, how painful must it be for dear Marius? She waits on the stair, hoping to offer what comfort she can. She stands with him while his gaze turns to the distance and he begins to cry. She stands with him until he runs out of tears.

Cosette leads him through the shell of the Musain and into the carriage. He leans against the side and waits for the horses to set off. As they carry her marvellous husband and her back to a home she thought they would never have, he says, "Have I ever told you of my dear friends, Combeferre and Courfeyrac?" At the silent shake of her head, he takes her hand and begins to speak.


End file.
